Marked To Be Theirs

Ivy’s POV The knife that pressed against my throat was cold enough to make me stop breathing. "You really thought you could run from me princess?" Jeremy's voice was a whisper in my ear but it might as well have been a scream with how it made my entire body lock up in terror. We were in the storage room of my own gallery and I could hear people laughing and drinking just beyond the door. They had no idea that the artist whose work they were celebrating was currently being held at knifepoint by her ex who was supposed to be in prison for another five years. "Jeremy please," I whispered because talking any louder might make the blade cut skin. "There are people outside and if you hurt me they will hear." He laughed and the sound made my skin crawl. "You think I care about those pretentious idiots? I've been watching you for weeks Ivy and you have no idea how badly I want to drag you out of here and remind you who you belong to." The knife pressed harder and I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my neck. Jeremy's other hand grabbed my hip and pulled me against him and I could feel exactly how much he was enjoying my fear. "But I'm a patient man," he said and his lips brushed my ear. "I'll let you have your little party tonight and pretend you're some big shot artist but just remember that everything you have is because of me and I can take it all away whenever I want." He pulled the knife away and shoved me forward so hard that I crashed into a shelf of paint supplies. By the time I turned around he was already gone and the only evidence he had been there at all was the blood on my fingers when I touched my neck. I grabbed paper towels and pressed them against the cut while trying to control my breathing. The party outside was still going and I needed to get back out there before someone came looking for me. I checked my reflection in a small mirror and the cut was not as bad as it felt but it was definitely visible. I found a silk scarf in my bag and wrapped it around my neck to hide the wound. My hands were still shaking when I walked back into the gallery but I plastered on a smile and pretended everything was fine because that was what I had gotten good at over the years. "There you are," my best friend, Maya, said when she spotted me. "I was about to send a search party and why are you wearing a scarf inside?" "Just got cold," I lied and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "You know how these gallery air conditioners are." Maya looked suspicious but she let it go because a potential buyer was waving her over. I downed the champagne in two gulps and immediately regretted it when the room started spinning a little. "Ivy Clark, right?" I turned to find a man with a camera hanging from his neck and eyes that looked almost gold under the gallery lights. He was tall in that way that made me want to step back but something about his presence felt warm instead of threatening. "That's me," I said and my voice came out shakier than I wanted. "Xavier Hall," he said and extended his hand. "I'm a photographer and therapist but tonight I'm just someone who can't stop staring at your work." His hand was warm when I shook it and something electric passed between us that made me pull away too quickly. Xavier's eyes narrowed and he looked at me like he could see through every wall I had built around myself. "Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem upset." "I'm fine," I lied again because telling the truth would mean explaining things I did not want to explain. "Just overwhelmed by the turnout." Xavier did not look convinced but he nodded slowly. "I actually bought three of your pieces last month from your online shop and I wanted to commission you for a personal project if you're interested." "What kind of project?" I asked and tried to focus on his words instead of the throbbing pain in my neck. "I'm putting together a photography series about artists in their natural habitat and your work has this raw emotional quality that I think would translate beautifully to film." Something about the way he said it made me feel exposed like he could see all the pain I poured into my paintings. I opened my mouth to politely decline but then his eyes flashed gold again and this time I was certain I had not imagined it. "I don't think that's a good idea," I said and took a step back. Xavier's expression shifted to something almost hurt. "Can I ask why not?" "I just don't do well with people getting too close," I said and that was the most honest thing I had said all night. "Fair enough," Xavier said but something in his tone suggested this conversation was not over. "But if you change your mind here's my card." He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. His fingers brushed mine during the exchange and that electric feeling came back stronger than before. I shoved the card in my clutch and mumbled a thank you before walking away as fast as I could without actually running. The rest of the party passed in a blur of fake smiles and small talk. I sold four paintings which should have made me happy but all I could think about was Jeremy's knife against my throat and Xavier's golden eyes watching me. By the time the last guest left I was exhausted and my neck was killing me. Maya helped me clean up and she kept giving me concerned looks that I pretended not to notice. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked when we were loading paintings into my car. "You've been acting weird all night." "I'm just tired," I said. "It's been a long day." Maya hugged me goodbye and made me promise to text her when I got home. I drove through empty streets with my radio off because I needed silence to think. Jeremy was out there somewhere watching me and I had no idea how to stop him. The restraining order I had gotten last year clearly meant nothing to him. I pulled into my apartment complex and sat in my car for a full five minutes checking every shadow for signs of Jeremy. When I finally worked up the courage to get out I practically ran to my door and locked it behind me with shaking hands. My apartment felt different somehow like someone had been inside while I was gone. I checked every room and closet but found nothing out of place. I was being paranoid but after what happened tonight I had every right to be. I peeled off my dress and scarf and looked at my neck in the bathroom mirror. The cut was shallow but ugly and it would definitely leave a scar. I cleaned it with antiseptic and covered it with a bandage before collapsing into bed. Sleep did not come easy and when it finally did I dreamed of wolves, golden eyes and knives that never stopped cutting. My phone woke me up at three in the morning with a text from an unknown number. *Sweet dreams princess. I'll see you again very soon.* I sat up in bed with my heart racing and checked all my locks again even though I knew they would not keep Jeremy out if he really wanted in. I tried to calm down by painting but my hands were shaking too badly to hold a brush properly. Xavier's business card was still in my clutch and I pulled it out without really knowing why. The card listed his photography studio address and his therapy practice information. There was also a handwritten note on the back that I had not noticed before. *Call me if you ever need someone to talk to. Day or night. I mean it.* I held the card for a long time while trying to decide if reaching out to a stranger was brave or stupid. In the end I put the card on my nightstand and tried to go back to sleep but all I could think about was the way Xavier had looked at me like he could see through me. Something about his golden eyes unnerved me. The sun was coming up when I finally dozed off and my last conscious thought was that running from Jeremy had been pointless because he would always find me. I just did not know yet that three other men were about to find me too.